Table Of ContentSE: Dedicated with love to my amazing wife Svetlana and our talented
daughters Natasha and Anna.
MB: For Erika, Banks, and Audrey Grace
Cover
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
INTRODUCTION
PART I : THE METHOD
CHAPTER ONE: BUILDING GROWTH TEAMS
CHAPTER TWO: DETERMINING IF YOUR PRODUCT IS MUST-HAVE
CHAPTER THREE: IDENTIFYING YOUR GROWTH LEVERS
CHAPTER FOUR: TESTING AT HIGH TEMPO
PART II : THE GROWTH HACKING PLAYBOOK
CHAPTER FIVE: HACKING ACQUISITION
CHAPTER SIX: HACKING ACTIVATION
CHAPTER SEVEN: HACKING RETENTION
CHAPTER EIGHT: HACKING MONETIZATION
CHAPTER NINE: A VIRTUOUS GROWTH CYCLE
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
NOTES
When I (Sean) got a call from Dropbox founder Drew Houston in 2008, I was
immediately intrigued by the predicament the one-year-old start-up was in. The
company’s cloud-based file storage and sharing service had built up a good early
fan base, concentrated primarily among the tech-savvy community centered in
Silicon Valley. Even before the product was completely built, Houston had
pushed a video prototype online illustrating how the service would work, which
had earned him the backing of the powerful Y Combinator start-up incubator and
drawn a flood of early adopters.
It became pretty clear that Houston was on to something when the waiting list
he was keeping for the beta version grew from 5,000 to 75,000 in a blink of an
eye when a second video was posted on news aggregator site Digg and went
viral.1 The next wave of users who signed up after the public launch were happy
with the service, but Houston was still running into a wall trying to break out
beyond the tech elite. And he didn’t have much time. The competition was
fierce. One start-up, Mozy, had a three-year head start, while another, Carbonite,
had raised $48 million in funding—versus the $1.2 million in seed capital raised
by Houston. Meanwhile, behemoths Microsoft and Google were gearing up to
enter the cloud storage arena. How could Dropbox grow their customer base in
the shadow of such formidable competitors?
When Houston called me, he wanted to explore what I could do to help them
grow beyond their very solid but not-yet-big-enough pool of early adopters. I
was just wrapping up an interim VP of marketing role at Xobni, a start-up run by
Drew’s good friend Adam Smith, when Adam suggested that we meet to discuss
Dropbox’s challenges. I had developed a reputation in Silicon Valley as
someone who could figure out how to help companies take off, particularly those
facing fierce competition and limited budgets such as Dropbox was. I’d first had
success driving growth at the online game pioneer Uproar, growing the site to
one of the 10 largest on the Web, with more 5.2 million gamers at the time of
IPO in March of 2000, all in the face of an aggressive push into gaming from
Sony, Microsoft, and Yahoo!2 I’d then moved over to work on growth initiatives
at LogMeIn, an innovative service started by the Uproar founder. There I’d
managed to help turn the company into the market leader despite a massive
marketing campaign waged by its main competitor, GoToMyPC. What was the
secret? I worked with the engineers to utilize technology for what was, to them,
an unconventional purpose: to craft novel methods for finding, reaching, and
learning from customers in order to hone our targeting, grow our customer base,
and get more value from our marketing dollars. I knew nothing about software
engineering when I started my career in 1994 selling print ad space for a
business journal at a time when businesses were just starting to move to the
Web. But I saw the promise of the future in Web business, and so when I got to
know the founder of Uproar, I decided to invest some of my hard-won sales
commissions and hop over to work for the gaming portal, once again, selling
ads. It wasn’t long before I caught on to the dangers of relying only on
traditional marketing methods—even the newer, Internet-era versions of old
methods, like online banner ads—to drive growth. My big wake-up moment was
probably when the leading advertising firms I was trying to sell to, such as
Saatchi and Ogilvy, declined to recommend banner ads on Uproar to their
clients, on the grounds that the site didn’t have a large enough user base. Short
on cash and in danger of missing out on much-needed sales commissions, I
suddenly found myself tasked by the founder with figuring out how to bring in
more users, fast. My first approach was paid advertising on Internet portals, like
Yahoo!, and that stoked growth nicely. But it was costly, and, just as Drew
Houston later discovered with Dropbox, the ads weren’t bringing in enough bang
for the buck. Meanwhile, Sony, Yahoo!, and Microsoft started making their big
push, flooding the Web with gaming ads, and as a young start-up, Uproar didn’t
have anywhere close to the money needed to compete with them head to head. I
knew I had to find another way.
That’s when I got the idea of creating an entirely new type of advertisement
that allowed Web proprietors to offer Uproar games for free on their site,
meaning the site got fun new features to offer their visitors, and Uproar got
exposure to everyone who visited those pages. The founder gave the go-ahead,
and within a few weeks, the engineers and I had created a new single-player
game that could be added to any website, with just a small snippet of code: one
of the first embeddable widgets. The site proprietors would become Uproar
affiliates, paid just $.50 for each new game player the company acquired through
their sites. The low cost made it highly affordable for us and, because the game
was so engaging, the affiliates were happy to feature it. In addition to sending
new gamers to Uproar, we experimented with adding an “add this game to your
site” link, which made it easy for other website owners to make the game
available on their sites, too.
As we saw the game start to take off, we tested different versions of the copy,
calls to action, and which free game we offered to find the most potent
combination. The result for Uproar was explosive growth; the free games were
soon on 40,000 sites and Uproar shot to the top of the online gaming world,
beating out the behemoths and their splashy marketing campaigns. Many other
companies have since used the same strategy to grow, the most famous example
being YouTube, who later supercharged its growth by creating its embeddable
video player widget, which landed YouTube videos all over the Web and turned
online video into a phenomenon.
It was this success that led the founder of Uproar to ask me to come help grow
his next venture, LogMeIn. LogMeIn was an ingenious product that let users
access their files, email, and software on their home or work desktop computer
from any other PC connected to the Internet. Yet while an aggressive search
engine marketing campaign led to a good initial burst of customer sign-ups, they
soon plateaued, and I realized that ads were once again proving far too costly for
the payoff—especially since, at my suggestion, LogMeIn had pivoted from a
paid to a freemium model in an effort to differentiate the service from its fierce
competitor, GoToMyPC. At over $10,000 in ad spend per month, the customer
acquisition costs no longer generated a positive return on the investment. Despite
lots of ad copy testing and playing around with different keywords and
advertising platforms, the conversion rate was woefully low—and this for a
service that was clearly incredibly helpful, and was free, to boot. So once again I
turned to technology to find a novel way to try to solve the problem.
I decided that we should try to get feedback from people who had signed up
but had then abandoned the service. We had collected their email addresses as
part of the sign-up process, and we sent out an email asking them why they
weren’t using LogMeIn. Seems obvious, but it was a radical idea at the time.
After just a few days, the collective responses offered an absolutely unequivocal
explanation: people didn’t believe the service was really free. At the time, the
freemium software model was new and it still seemed too good to be true to lots
of people. So with that realization, I got my marketing and engineering teams in
a room to brainstorm ideas for how to change the landing page, to better
communicate to customers that there was no “catch”—that LogMeIn did, in fact,
offer a completely free version of the product. We experimented with many
iterations of marketing copy and page designs, and yet even this led to very little
meaningful improvement. We then decided to test adding a simple link to buy
the paid version to the page. And with that, we found a winning combination of
design, message, and offer that led to a tripling of the conversion rate. That was
just the start, though. Upon digging into the data, we discovered an even bigger
drop-off among users who downloaded the software but then didn’t follow
through and use it. We kept experimenting, such as with changes in the install
process, the sign-up steps, and more, and ultimately we improved the conversion
rate to the point that search ads not only became cost effective again, they could
be profitably scaled by over 700 percent. So scale up the company did, and
immediately growth took off.
Once again, the solution had been found in just weeks, using a recipe that
included healthy doses of out-of-the-box thinking, cross-company collaboration
and problem solving, real-time market testing and experimentation (conducted at
little or no cost), and a commitment to being nimble and responsive in acting on
the results. These are the very ingredients that I later codified into the growth
hacking methodology you’ll read about in the pages that follow.
Of course, Uproar and LogMeIn weren’t the only start-ups in town combining
programming and marketing know-how with the emerging characteristics of the
Web to drive growth. Hotmail, for example, was one of the first to tap into the
viral quality of Web products—and their ability to “sell themselves”—when it
added the simple tagline “P.S.: Get Your Free Email at Hotmail” at the bottom
of every email that users sent, with a link to a landing page to set up an account.3
At the same time, PayPal had demonstrated the extraordinary growth potential in
creating the synergy between a product and a popular Web platform—in their
case, eBay. When the team noticed auction owners promoting the PayPal service
as an easy way for winners to pay, they created AutoLink, a tool that
automatically added the PayPal logo and a link to sign up to all of their active
auction listings. This tool tripled the number of auctions using PayPal on eBay
and ignited its viral growth on the platform.4 LinkedIn, which had struggled to
gain traction in its first year, saw their growth begin to skyrocket in late 2003,
when the engineering team worked out an ingenious way for members to
painlessly upload and invite their email contacts stored in their Outlook address
book, kicking network effects growth into high gear.5 And in each of these
cases, growth was achieved not with traditional advertising, but rather with a
dash of programming smarts and on a shoestring budget.
Approaches like these to building, growing, and retaining a customer base that
relied not on traditional marketing plans, a pricey launch, and a big ad spend, but
rather on harnessing software development to build marketing into products
themselves, were proving both extraordinarily powerful and incredibly cost
effective. Perhaps more important, companies’ growing ability to collect, store,
and analyze vast amounts of user data, and to track it in real time, was now
enabling even small start-ups to experiment with new features, new messaging
or branding, or other new marketing efforts—at an increasingly low cost, much
higher speed, and greater level of precision. The result was the emergence of a
rigorous approach to fueling rapid market growth through high-speed, cross-
functional experimentation, for which I soon coined the term growth hacking.
After the success of my growth strategy at LogMeIn, I decided to focus on
helping early stage companies accelerate their growth through experimentation.
So when Drew Houston reached out to me to discuss how I could work with
Dropbox, I couldn’t wait to implement the method that I’d developed. My first
step was to get Houston’s buy-in to conduct a simple survey of the current users
to calculate what I called (and what you’ll read about in more detail later in the
book) the product’s must-have score. The survey asked the simple question
“How would you feel if you could no longer use Dropbox?” Users could respond
“Very disappointed,” “Somewhat disappointed,” “Not disappointed,” or “N/A no
longer using the product” (I wrote the question this way because I found that
asking people if they were satisfied with a product didn’t deliver meaningful
insights; disappointment was a much better gauge of product loyalty than
satisfaction). Having already run this survey at numerous start-ups, I had found
that companies where more than 40 percent of respondents said they would be
“very disappointed” if they could no longer use the product had very strong
growth potential, where those that fell under that 40 percent threshold tended to
face a much harder path in growing the business (due to user apathy). When I
saw the results of the survey, though, even I was blown away. Dropbox’s score
was off the charts, particularly for users who had fully explored the features of
the product.
This indicated that there was enormous potential for growth here, and the next
challenge was to figure out how to tap into it. So I proposed to Houston that we
experiment with finding alternate ways to ignite it other than more paid ads.
Houston agreed, and brought me in as interim head of marketing for a six-month
term. An engineering graduate of MIT, Houston had already put his skills to
good use in building the Dropbox product; now we would apply that prowess to
helping put the product in front of many more customers—and ensure they loved
it.
Then came the second step in the growth process: a dive into Dropbox’s user
data. One discovery this yielded was that a full third of Dropbox users came
from referrals of current users of the product. That meant word of mouth was
strong, even if it wasn’t yet driving growth fast enough. In other words, Houston
had created a product people truly loved, and that they were raving about to their
friends, and yet it wasn’t coming close to its potential for signing up new
customers. This was a striking example of the Field of Dreams fallacy, still too
popular in the start-up community; that is, the belief that all that’s needed is to
build a standout product and “they [the customers] will come.”
What if, I wondered, Dropbox could find a way to harness and amplify their
strong word of mouth, making it easy and appealing for the early fans to
evangelize to many more of their friends? Drew and I brainstormed with an
intern Drew had roped into the effort, Albert Ni, and together we decided to
create a referral program like the one PayPal had implemented to great success.
The only catch was that the PayPal program had offered to deposit $10 into the
user’s PayPal account, in exchange for referrals, and though the total cost had
not been disclosed (cofounder Elon Musk has since revealed that it amounted to
some $60 to $70 million), there was no way Dropbox could afford to “buy”
users to achieve the level of growth they were looking for.6 Then it hit us: What
if we could offer people something else they clearly valued highly—more
storage space—in exchange for referrals? At the time Dropbox was using
Amazon’s low-cost S3 Web servers (which launched a couple of years earlier)
for its data storage, which meant that it would be pretty simple (and cheap) to
add more space to their infrastructure. Using PayPal’s program as a template,
our small team quickly crafted a referral program that offered users an extra 250
megabytes of space in exchange for referring a new friend to the service, who
would also get 250 megabytes added to their own account. At the time, 250
megabytes was the equivalent of offering a whole hard drive of storage for free,
so as far as incentives go, it was pretty powerful.
